Page 29 of Inspiring Izzy

"You don't have to do that just to pay for me," I feel my face heat. "I don't want you to do that."

Brady leans closer. "I want to, Iz."

"I'll pay you back," I promise.

His lips part as he pauses before saying, "Alright."

"I get paid next week," I feel a weight lift off me.

"Oh, shoot!" Ava squirms beside me. "I just dumped half my drink on me."

Brady grabs some of the black cloth napkins on the table and hands them to her. Ava rips them from his hand before quietly telling me she's going to run to the restroom.

"So," Brady clears his throat, "she still hates me."

I drum my fingers on the white tablecloth as Ava disappears through the crowd. "I don't know why."

"I do," he says cryptically. "Do you want to meet Angie's husband, Adrian?"

"Yeah," I give him a small smile. "I do."

"Come on," Brady motions toward the kitchen.

We both stand and sneak away from the table, abandoning our drinks.

Angie waves us over when she sees us, and I inhale sharply as Brady's hand finds my lower back.

"I thought we could introduce Izzy to Adrian," Brady tells her.

Angie claps. "Yes! He's swamped back in the kitchen, but we can pop in and say hi real quick."

The sounds of plates clanking against each other and meat searing in pans echoes through the kitchen as Angie's husband, Adrian, greets us with a red face.

"This is Izzy," Angie tells Adrian. His dark hair is pulled back in a bun on top of his head. "She's Brady's new assistant."

"I never get to meet Brady's assistants," Adrian teases my boss.

"That's because we actually like this one," Angie chimes in.

"Everything looks amazing," I say to Adrian. "I can't wait to try the shrimp pasta."

"Thank you for stopping by tonight," Adrian grins. "It means a lot to Ang and me."

"Angie!" someone hollers from the front of the restaurant and she takes off, flustered.

We say our goodbyes to Adrian, who looks relieved to get back to whatever food he's cooking.

I inhale sharply when I realize Brady's hand is still on my lower back as we make our way to the table. It's too close. Too intimate.

But I don't have the heart—or strength—to tell him to remove it.

"You said no flirting," he says into my ear as if he can hear my thoughts. "You never said no touching."

I look up at him. "Then, I guess we should add it to our list of ground rules."

The corner of Brady's lips tips up as his fingers slide up my spine and through my hair. "That's too bad, Iz. Ireallylike touching you."

The floor feels like it's ripped out beneath me as he drops his hand from my hair and he pulls out my chair.

---